Chapter Thirty-Nine

January 1986

Jon rolled his head back against the headrest in the bus. Thank fuck they were nearly home. It was just after New Years, and it was over. The tour was finally fucking over. He closed his eyes, would his head ever stop spinning from the last few months? It’d been hell and awesome wrapped up in the same package.
 
He felt like they were as a band well on the way to be noticed. Meetings were already underway for their next album that would be recorded in the early part of next year.
 
Strike while the iron is hot.
 
He just needed a minute. To stand still and stop the world spinning so he could sleep. Christ, he needed to sleep. He folded his arms and dug his fingers into his bicep, were they home yet? This was taking forever. It was bad enough he had to be away from his family for Christmas and New Years, he was away from Callie as well.
 
He frowned thinking how hard it had been to get hold of her in the last few days. He’d left her countless messages and one even with a return number and she still hadn’t returned any of his calls. He popped his knuckle against his arm, maybe she didn’t feel the way he did?
 
Had Doc been right? Had he been cruel to tie her up in his world after all? She was a welcome relief at times for Jon, he just hadn’t realized it until now. The freeway turn off finally came into view. Thank god, he wanted to talk to her, hell he wanted to show her exactly how much he’d missed her. No amount of stupid head he’d received from any pretty blond was a substitute for her. He wanted more, he needed more from a woman.
 
It was a different concept for him. He wasn’t used to that need, but when he thought of Callie, his belly twisted.
 
“You alright Jonny?” he opened his eyes to Richie’s worried brown ones looking back at him.
 
“Yeah, just tired bro. It’s been a long few months, but we’ve kicked some major ass out there on the road.”
 
Richie reached around and bumped his knuckle against his. “Fuck, we did!”
 
“I’m looking forward to being home though.”
 
“With Callie?”
 
Jon chuckled and his lips kicked up. “Yeah, have to admit I am.”
 
“Thank god for that. You two need to get your shit sorted out.”
 
Jon ran his finger across the worn our window framing. “Who falls in love with their wife after they get married anyway?”
 
Richie snorted, “least you admit it now.”
 
“Fuck off,” Jon laughed and closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to think about anything, not Doc, not how much money they now owed people from this tour. Not the band, not Richie, no one. He’d be quite happy to shut himself in a room for a week.
 
Twenty minutes later he hauled his bag out of the bus and waved goodbye. He tugged his coat tighter around him as the chilly night air whipped right through him.  He made his way up the stairs to Callie’s apartment. He tapped his knuckles against the door and waited, he had no idea where his key was.
 
After no one answered he knocked again, “Callie?”
 
But nothing.
 
He was surprised when he tried the handle, the door pushed open. He let himself in and closed it behind him. “Callie?” He dumped his bags and walked through to the kitchen. He cast his eye over the stacks of files and papers that littered the small dining room table. Christ, she must have a big case on. He stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the kitchen. She was busy scrubbing something in the sink, with her back to him.

He smirked, as he appreciated the rear view of her curvy figure and took a few steps forward. He'd never really noticed how well she could fill a pair of jeans until now.

“Don't even touch me.”

Jon's head jerked up as he stood, glued to the floor. What the fuck?

“Callie. It's me.” He took another step forward but blinked when she barked at him to stop again, never turning around once.

“I know who it is. You can stay here tonight, on the couch and then I want you gone tommorow.”

Jon swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. Was it because he didn't talk to her around Christmas? What the hell had happened? “Callie, turn around and talk to me.”

His belly bottomed out when her shoulders slumped, and he heard a small hiccup from her. Fuck this.

He reached for her shoulders and spun her around, “Callie-.” His heart tripped, as her normal beautiful big blue eyes, were rimmed red and her face was drained of all color. “What happened baby?” He was quick to tug her in, but she shrugged out of his grasp.

“Just leave me, dinner is in the oven. It'll be ready in twenty minutes. I'm going out for a bit.”

The heat bubbled in his throat and straight to his head. He gripped her shoulder, “Callie for god's sake what's happened?”

She looked up with sad eyes, and he knew in that moment he would never forget them as long as he lived. “You happened, Jon.”

Why the hell were woman determined to be mastermind puzzles when it came to emotions? For the love of fuck.

“Callie. Listen to me. Tell me what's going on?”

Fear crept in, for a moment he thought about the possibilty of losing her but pushed it aside. Wasn't going to happen.

She bunched her hands into fists on his chest when he pulled her in tightly, and he pressed his lips against her forehead. She may have well as been ice in his arms, she was so damn stiff. “Tell me... please Callie.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I've missed you so much.”

God, what the hell had happened?

Her fingers twisted the collar of his shirt. “You haven't missed me.”

He pushed her back an inch, and tipped her chin to meet his gaze. His belly swam with nerves, and the sweat dripped down his temple. “I have Callie...more than you know. I should of told you in Florida... I should of told you that I--”

“Don't even say it. Don't you fucking even say that to me.”

Tears squeezed out from the corners of her eyes, and down that pretty face. God he wanted to take that away. Wanted to make it better. “I mean it Callie, I'm in love with you.”

His eyes widened when she laughed, more tears spilled freely down her face. “Is that why you still slept with girls and told them about our marriage and the arrangement we had?”

Jon felt his face drain, and his stomach hit the floor. He had been drunk, one night – stupidly drunk to tell that stupid girl to sleep with him. Aw, fuck. How did Callie know all this?

“How do--” he cut off realizing it didnt matter. It didnt matter how she knew, she knew and it hurt her. He closed his eyes, remembering Richie's voice. She loves you man. It's so obvious. He'd fucked up. Big time.

“Callie, I was drunk and I made a stupid mistake...I don't want-”

“Let go of me Jon, you know what damn well you want. You want an unlimited supply of pussy but a wife to still come home to and smile for the cameras when it suits you.”

He dropped his arms, “that's not what I want. I've been an idiot Callie but this hasn't exactly been a normal situation.”

“So it's my fault now? You're the one that decided on your own, we'd stay married without even consulting me. You announced it over the radio, without a god damn thought on how I felt.” She paced down the kitchen, the anger was melting out from her. It was a side of Callie he didn't know existed.

He rubbed his forehead, he couldn't even defend himself. He had been the one that decided that they would stay married, like she said. Without consulting her. In a fucked up way, he did it for her, to show her she could make her own decisions without her god damned father.

“I'm sorry.” What else could he possibly say at this moment? “Callie, I took advantage of you and then I realized I love you... and I do. Honest.” He bit the back of his thumb as he watched her, arms folded. Shut off completely from him.

“It's over Jon. I can't do this, I can't do any of this.” His heart ached when more tears slid down her cheeks. He couldn't bare the thought of being without her. In a strange way, over the tour they'd become close friends, he could tell her anything. Anything that he couldn't tell Doc or his bandmates. And he couldn't stand to lose that.

“Callie, please...” Panic rose in his throat. All the way home he wanted to be alone, he wanted nothing more than to close of the world. But now, because that reality was crashing down hard on him. He feared it the most. “Callie, I need you.” He winced how lame it came out, how insincere and insenstive could he possibly get?

“No you don't. I'm not being used anymore by you Jon. It's over.”

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, “I have to go.”

“No,” he held her this time and didn't let go. He buried his nose into her silky hair, the smell of apples and home comforted him for only a moment. He couldn't let her go. He had to tell her what she'd become, it was more than needing her. He loved her.

“I love you Callie, I was too stupid to see it when you came out to Florida and saved me. Too stupid to see how much you cared for me. And I was too stupid to see, how much I cared for you. I'll make this up to you. I promise, just please don't make me leave.” His voice cracked, and he didn't care how desperate he sounded. He had to get it across to her, she mattered.

Like no one else had ever mattered before.

His arms sucked her in tight, and she began to tremble with sobs against him. He hated himself, that he was the reason she was so destroyed. He'd played the game, and fucked her up. It wasn't too late, it couldn't be too late.

“You matter so much Callie, I wish I could show you. And how much I believe in you and want to support you as much as you supported me.” Her body shook more, he was the biggest asshole on the planet right now. And he knew it.

His own tears didn't surprise him, he was exhausted, and he was scared.

He couldn't do this alone.

Not anymore.